


Thirst

by Ladibard_Wordsmith28



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Rough Kissing, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:42:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23827786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladibard_Wordsmith28/pseuds/Ladibard_Wordsmith28
Summary: Severus Snape had planned to escape the Magical world, but he had never planned to kiss Hermione Granger and take her along with him.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 11
Kudos: 186





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own only my AU and OC, the rest belong to JKR. My fics might and might not draw inspirations from the masterpiece fanfics written by mind-blowing writers on this site. If you find similarities, I would like to present a twisted idiom, "Birds of a feather (flock) write together!"

* * *

**Thirst**

Harry and Ron had both given up hope, but she couldn't. She couldn't manage to close her eyes. She could not continue watching him bleed right there and do nothing. Right after Voldemort disintegrated in the dust, right after the Aurors arrested the remaining death eaters, right after the lull of the battle had started to set in, she had dashed out the castle, running past torn bodies, fallen trees over broken down statues, and blood and burnt flesh, she had run till the Willow tree. Poking the knot, she managed to skid in and again ran hard and fast. By the time she had crawled into the dusty room now smelling of his blood, every muscle of hers was screaming and complaining.

No, dont, dont, not yet…

Crawling up, she had hovered above him, placing her palms around his neck, one by one she had gulped down the rancid potions and then she had done something, that would tilt the earth on its axis. That would stop time, the shifting clouds, the moon, and the sun on their path. Prying his bluish pale lips open, she had snaked her tongue inside, emptying the contents, rubbing his throat, chanting a healing spell. Who was she kidding with? It was yet again, his invention. The counter curse of sectumsempra. Maybe some of those potions had tickled past her throat, maybe her body had gradually started accepting the fatigue she had been battling against, for it was soon enough, she started seeing stars behind her eyes. At least I tried, at least I managed to give it a shot, is he really gone too far...Oh! Gods, I can't breathe, I can't think, the world is swaying, air, I…

A hand had cupped her head, and another had secured her thin waist, his head had slightly shifted, but it was his lips that burnt up like fire against her tired ones. Bumping his nose against hers, just to get better access, he started responding, snaking his blood-soaked tongue against her frightened one, sucking in the air she still struggled to breathe in, devouring her optimism, her zeal to survive, her intensity to gather knowledge. He had already made plans. The moment Nagini had lunged at him, he had bitten on the tooth cap which he had managed to lace with the snake's antivenom and a special exotic herbal extract that managed to slow the heart rate. A rather ancient Muggle trick to foil Death.

He had assumed people would forget and only come looking for him to do away with his body. He had a handful of hours prior to that, he just needed to gain some strength, then he would touch the portkey secured right under his trousers' belt buckle. And be gone forever. But now, this... this was a new problem by itself. Hermione Granger had appeared from nowhere. And she had tossed the inhibitions, rules, laws against student and teacher relations. She had kissed him. Not only that, but the foolish girl had also gulped down potions on his behest and had managed to transfer them to his mouth through this maddening kiss. And they called her prude! Those fumbling teens behind statues, in dark alcoves, after curfew… those idiots! Those fools were too eager to know the hidden secrets of primal desires. Those fools had no idea, nor would they ever fathom the elixir called Hermione Granger. Only for once, just for a second, when she had gasped against his dominant lips, did he think off stopping this madness. But when she had meowed in response, he knew there was no turning back.

They both were alive, and the vanquished were dragged away one by one, they were here and no one was coming to look...maybe they would notice her missing? He should leave, he should obliviate her and just leave. Reluctantly, he had let go of her. Trying to regaining his composure, he had allowed his hands to linger on her shoulder and the small of her back. Much to his surprise he noticed, he had been sitting up all this time, with her held possessively on his lap, flush against his broad chest. She whimpered at the sudden lack of his ministrations. Closing his eyes shut, he tried hard to ignore her warm legs wrapped around his waist and the subtle rock and roll of her hip over his growing desire. He thought she would now come back to her senses, and push away. Call him names...belittle him, he would just erase her memory and, and…

"Alive, alive, here," placing her palm over his heart, she had looked back at him, "Alive, beating, racing, throbbing, galloping steadily, you are alive," touching her chest feeling her racing heart, throb against it, she had exclaimed, "steadily beating, along with me. Oh! Gods, I would have died otherwise, I…" There, she had hooked his soul to hers, right at that moment in no simple words she had declared, he could have her with him. He had tried to speak, he had tried to ignore the pain and say, "Why come looking for me?"

She had replied, still trying to believe the fact that he was alive," I... want...you. Alive!" She had burst into a feat of laughter and the very next moment, Severus Snape had felt both featherlight and alit. Like she was both kissing away the years of strain and mental traumas he had been subjected to, and setting his cold skin ablaze, with passion, love, endearment, and arousing his nerve ends to do the unspeakable. To show, display, demonstrate the plain act of love. He had held her face stroking her wet cheek, he had whispered again," Why, why this, Miss Granger?"

"Need, I need to. Please!"

He had stolen yet another moment of sinful pleasure. Easing away after a length, he had tried to reason, "I am a fugitive." A small finger had traced his now healed throat, the angry scars were sensitive, he had hissed at the touch of her curious fingertips.

Against his jutting chin she had murmured, "And I have nobody. I would rather die…"

"Look at me! I am old, I am tainted, branded with darkness, vile and disfigured…"

"You are magnificent, majestic, proud, and brave...I... they will worship you…"

Narrowing his eyes, he had questioned, "Is that why you came, to hero-worship me!"

Slapping him tight, she had tugged at his long black hair, "I chose to be here, I chose to continue what you started, I made up my mind because, after this kiss, you have left me eternally thirsty…"

Pressing her back into his long frame, making her aware, exactly how far her words alone had ignited the dwindling fire within him, he had plucked herself palm from his face and had managed to guide it in between their pressed bodies, brushing past her heaving chest, trailing down her soft belly, he had pressed her hand over the portkey. With his larger palms he made sure he could access the trigger.

"I will never let you leave my side; I will keep you forever!"

"I would ask for nothing else!"

Bending down, he had once again captured her mouth, though this time, he desired to touch her soul hidden somewhere deep inside her core. She had gripped and pulled at his belt buckle and he had instinctively tightened his grip…

A loud pop later, the Shrieking Shack was empty again, though the pool of Severus Snape's blood and the Hermione Granger's hairpin were still there, waiting for the search party, which would be coming looking for at least one of them.


	2. chapter 2

Disclaimer: the same as the previous chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

The moment he had apparated her to his secret hideout, Severus Snape had reclaimed her mouth. Devouring her with every ounce of his energy, he had relished this new chance that life had gifted him. As he sucked on her supple lips, he felt his body tremble with hope. He had always seen a kindred heart in Hermione Granger. Her principles, her desire, and her insecurities mirrored those of his. But she was more, much much more than he could ever be. She was light embodied and he was the darkness surrounding a candle. But now, at last, when his purpose in the Magical world was over, he wanted to bath in her brightest.

Trapping her fumbling tongue between his teeth, he sucked on like a honey bee collecting nectar from a fresh flower. His arms fueled with the promise of a new life, roamed over every inch of her body. She had started mewling like a cat, but he was not done with her. Not yet, he had been hungry for ages it seemed and wanted to celebrate the occasion that they both were free and alive. Feeling the insides of her submitting mouth, he realized she could hardly continue standing on her legs. Bending forward, he grabbed her up, securing her supple bottom within his large palms, in the process dragging every inch of her heated-up heaving form up against his torso.

Her hands found their way up to his arms, feeling his lean muscles, grabbing onto his shoulders for purchase, they dug into his skin. By then he had realized her tongue and had gone back to torturing her bottom lip. The wild display of his naked passion for her must-have intoxicated her to the extent and the young woman had thrown all her inhibitions away, grinding her core against his throbbing desire. Grunting, he had let go of her lips and found pleasure in teasing his jawline pressing himself harder against her, letting her know if she wanted it that badly, he was not going to hold back. With ardent promise he went back to continue kissing her allowing himself to set his very entity free for her to claim. Finally allowing the air to win again, he left her lips and just moving his head a hairbreadth away, looked at her.

Her eyes were shut tight, her chest was heaving in rapid succession, and for a tiny second, he wished they were not wearing too many things. Yes of course things, their clothes were blood-soaked and torn. They both had smudges of dirt and grime all over their faces. But they were alive. He loved the feel of her nails digging into the nape of his neck with every calming breath she took. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were swollen. He wanted to see those eyes again. He wanted to see those beacons of light, hope, love, and pure joy once again. Failing to utter a word, he had rubbed his nose against hers, nudging her, like an animal he had nearly turned into, coaxing her to look up.

Feeling his hot breath against her still tingling lips, she gasped. She wanted to possess this man. She wanted to own him, even if it felt like an insult because the magical world had enslaved him to meet their selfish purposes. But she wanted him like glaciers constantly wanted to hide treasures below their thin ice sheets, like mountains that make the ascend to their tip impossible hiding away the panoramic scenery away from greedy eyes,. Like a storm that wanted to uproot everything that stood to obstruct its advance, she wanted to uproot him from his past and give him a new beginning. It would be her privilege to do so.

Her ears were ringing, her pulse was racing, she could feel his chest hard and firm, brushing at equal intervals following hers. Through his torn robes and blotched white linen his rising heat made her arch her spine like a taut bow. She never knew until that moment that the innocent tips of her small breasts could hold such sizzling energy that danced through her small body setting every nook and corner ablaze, till it reached down to the apex of her thighs which were nestling him, hard, alive and prepared. She had to open her eyes or else she might faint. And that would not be something Hermione Granger would have wanted to happen in a thousand years. Her eyes fluttered and opened wide. Flanking his rather long nose, her black obsidian eyes stared back at her, full of life. She noticed they no longer carried those horrible lines of constant fear, throbbing anger, and utter disregard for self. She ventured to offer him a meek smile.

The very next moment she was squealing like a child, her hair flying, as he spun round and round on his dragonhide boots, laughing aloud. She had to grab him hard and push her head at the crook of his neck to find some semblance in this absolute madness he was reducing himself into. The laughter rose from the pit of his stomach that rumbled like the dark monsoon clouds, his lungs expanded charging her chest with fresh bouts of energy and rushed through his healed-up throat till the cavity of his mouth launched them in full force into the cool air around. She heard the echo of it travel further and remain in the air for some time. Finding himself back again, he had pulled at her hair and had plundered her senses once again.

If she was to write it down in a piece of parchment what was it like to kiss the dour potion master of Hogwarts, the hated youngest Headmaster, she would become a quill staller! She was glad nevertheless to be the one making him crazy enough to nip and suck, bite and swirl, do all prohibited things with just her mouth. She couldn't dare to imagine what he might do with her if they were to strip away every thread on their skin and just let their heady senses carry on unrestricted by civil norms. This time it was he who lost the battle. Reluctantly releasing her lips, he buried his head in the curve of her neck and dropped to his knees. His long sweat coated black hair roughly rubbed against her cheek. She felt his draw in the air. His arms trembled, but when she tried to free herself from their vice grip, he tightened his hold possessively. His shoulders shook, his chest heaved erratically and he earnestly started to sob in her arms.

Holding his head close, drawing soothing circles over his long back, she held onto him, as he held onto her with his entire being. They both took comfort in each other's embrace. She took time to cry along with him, then when she was done, she looked around with dawning curiosity. They had apparated inside a cave. She could hear the sound of water. She could hear birds calling from somewhere close. She understood he had planned for this all along, glancing sideways, she saw a cot and a desk and somewhere beyond them, the ceiling threw shades of aqua lights that rippled lazily. She must have stiffened because he had pushed himself off a bit and was looking at her, reading her expressions minutely even in this semi-darkness. Bringing his hand to cradle her face, with great care he started rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

Her eyes must have slipped off her insecurities, because Severus Snape, who never asked a thing from another human being for himself, committed the second uncharacteristic act. In a shaky, pleading voice he dared to whisper the words, "Will you stay?"


	3. chapter 3

Disclaimer same as the previous chapter

**Chapter 3**

When was the last time someone else took so much care to comb her hair? With nothing but long thin fingers in the guise of a silly excuse to get every single strand of her hair free of the dirt, blood, and the terrible reminders of the war that ended just a few hours back. The water encircling her glinted with the reflections of the sun peeping through small crevices on the ceiling. Here in this natural cave that overlooked a blue sea, she was free, happily ensconced in his arms. Severus Tobias Snape had surprised her by his tenderness. Her ears still rang of the echo of his powerful carefree laughter. She had said yes to him, just because she wanted to become the reason behind those many series of laughter he must laugh in the coming years. 

With nothing else to cry about, He had lowered both of them on the cold cave floor and lazily peppered her neck with tiny star-shaped kisses. It was as if he was determined to paint her afresh. Give her skin a new identity, redefine her body. He conspired against nature by turning his lips, nose, breath, fingers legs, arms, chest, hair into his minions to kindle her hidden fire and set her alight in ecstasy. He was gentle and hesitant. Who had before this singular moment invested so much into recognizing her naivety? Considered her inexperience and did not stoop low to mock her, instead, educated her in the language of the skin and touch?

As they had in unison shredded their clothes one by one, they had discarded their old beliefs, their old acquaintances, their old ways, their old positions in the society, and even the stigmas that had their wings glued to a thin crust of the illusive norm of life. Now, the readers have to understand that one cannot simply pull these things apart from the surface of their identity and succumb to making quick love. These two needed to learn of the existence of the unknown first, look at it, feel it with their trembling fingers and mark it as the newly learned fact. It was only when they would get comfortable with “the fact” living among them, that they will step forward and react. 

For the time being she studied him as she gave him permission to study her. It was he, who had gracefully picked her up in his arms, baring his imperfections for her to cohabit with. Like his dust of hair marring his sculpted chest that tickled her side and arm, his long hair peppering ghostlike kisses on her brow. She couldn’t dare to look anywhere else, because this fallen angel with his wings cut, and his godly body ripped apart by human treason might just vanish and reduce into a night-long dream. He had allowed her to float in the secluded pond, placing his one hand on the soft of her back and the other held on to her neck tenderly. The flames that had risen high enough to engulf her power to think were reduced to flickers of light. Letting her ears hear the whispers of the sea and the water, he studied her like a restoration artist studies a piece of an old painting. 

The world had for so long neglected him, that he shuddered with the realization that she, of all the people, chose him and not the new world too eager to kiss the ground on which she stood. Her ‘yes’ had poured fresh honey into his ears. Her ‘yes’, had made him break free of those mental walls he had erected to save his soul from the lashes of two masters under whose brutal feet he dared to survive. He acknowledged he had liked her for long. Now, he could dare to maul over the idea of stepping further. 

A stray thought niggled at his conscience, like a small seedling nudging a small pebble to give it some room to catch the rays of the morning sun. What if he could manage to hear the whispers of her heart? The subtle throb and thud, the beat of the drum of life, the rush of air in and out of her lungs? Standing over her, holding her still, he watched her hair float around her head casting a huge halo of chestnut waves. Her skin flushed with lingering blushes, the water around kept on licking away the dirt and the grime of her flanks. Her chest rose and fell, letting rivulets of water wet every inch of her skin and recede back. If she was Nature embodied, the ancient water particles roleplayed as the backwaters of a delta. 

Transfixed by her beauty, he realized he had hardly taken care to breathe. As he allowed the whoosh of air to enter and then leave his lungs, he permitted his breath to roll over her pale skin. Her chest rose, her skin stiffened and grew dark, and right in the middle of her sternum a fresh blush began sprouting like a new hope. A small smile crept on his face and he saw her lips twitch as well. Slowly he lowered his head, letting his hair tickle her flushed skin, making her gasp and right there at the source of her life force, her magical energy, and her feelings, his placed his parted lips to gift her the most valuable kiss. 

Her hands lifted themselves from the lapping water to hold his bowed head in place. She had to or else, how was she going to make him believe that she was truly with him from now on? She let him, turn his head, and go still like the damp air in this cave. Her voice rose from her shuddering heart,” Hear, hear my heartbeat, Severus Snape because I am staying with you, in you and around you, till the very last.”

He dove underwater to hold her close from behind. Placing his arms over her chest, crossing his long legs over her smaller ones, he had warned, “Never again say the word last, when we have only begun.” Possessive and virile the man had lapped at her ear shell, imitating the water around, teasing her, coaxing her to forget the world outside, dive deep inside, and to embrace the calmness locked within. 

She voiced one of her random thoughts, “where are we?”

Going as still as the eye of the storm, he buried his head and nipped her neck and shoulder, before trying to return it with a counter-question,” What would you like this place to be?”

With hooded eyes, she watched the rays of the sunlight up the insides of the cave, heard the seagulls call, and heard waves of a powerful sea crush again and again, against what could only be jutting rocks. His arms, hands, legs, and feet shifting now and then to imitate feather-light kisses on every inch they could manage to touch. Her back was already enjoying his warmth. He continued to keep her arousal awake in meaningful ways. At length, she whispered decisively, “Home”.


	4. chapter 4

Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.

**Chapter 4**

"Home". She called this natural hideout, that Severus Snape had chanced upon during one of the many clandestine jobs that he did for the Dark Lord. She, of all the people, called this place "Home". This cave, this underground water basin, this small interconnected cave formation was like Home. and not a house or a shelter or a place to halt and take a breather. But Home. Hermione Granger could make him go weak on his knees and cry his heart out with just a small monosyllabic word.

He had flipped her so that he could look into her eyes and judge how far honest she was being with him. Gulping down his winding insecurities, he had urged her, "Say it again." He watched in apt attention how her eyes grew wide, her iris shown in understanding as soon as she recognized the true weight those three words carried. Gripping onto his shoulders, bringing her lips over his parted one, staring deep into his eyes, unblinkingly, she confirmed, "This is Home." Their legs and arms had already tangled around each other like ivy, now their lips met, to melt in their joint passionate heat. She had felt those crazy butterflies flutter once again. His desire grew hard and strong nudging her eager and relentless to soak himself in the hidden river of her abyssal core.

His lips craved for dominance and she submitted freely. "Take it all if you please, for one enjoy the power I give to you so freely," her mind chanted with the count of invisible beads. She knew his insecurities ran deep till they rigorously caged his heart. A man who knew how to love as a lion lived like a snake coiled in the darkest part of magical existence. She had learned faster, if she could mirror his moves, he would crumple like wet sand in her fist. It was a power she did not relish but in turn, enjoyed because it gave him a reason to love life.

Holding on to his sharp tongue, she scratched her nails at his wet scalp. He could have begged for mercy, but instead, he hoisted her up and held her firm on his lap. She heard his voice echo in her frenzy mind, "may I?", "May I?". She broke off, giggling hysterically. He made a face and tried to push her away. Feeling sorry for bruising his battered ego, she tightened her arms around his neck, and bit his lower lip, leaving no room for him to move away. If he dared to even flinch, she would bite hard enough to break open a fresh wound that would bleed, if she could have her way!

Tasting new waters with this strange mental connection, because she was new to it, armed only with her bookish knowledge, she echoed back," Yes, you may," with all the earnestness she could muster. His eyes opened wide only to turn into doubtful slits, then he was inside her mindscape. She had to let go of his lips because his presence within her mind was nothing less than a coming storm. Overridden with desire, he had not only driven through her mind. He watched in slow motion as her head was thrown back, her nail dug into his wet shoulders, her legs flexed and tightened around his slender waist. He had lost his sanity and had impaled her.

As he propped his head upon his elbow, he continued to hover over her spent body. Her hair had a mind of its own, much like his. Those strands of both black and chestnut were stubborn and free-spirited. He had given her several reasons to forego rationality in the past hours. Riding her like a man possessed, being driven by her initial clumsiness, he found he liked her naivety, he relished at her imperfections. She had given his many scars an identity of their own and he had christened her skin with thousand such blotches of red marks. Even after worshipping her raised scar on her hand, that defined not even an iota of what Hermione Granger is, he felt ashamed. Ashamed because he could not give her a memorable first time.

She was as brave as a lioness could ever be, yet when he tore through the barrier that transformed her from a girl to a woman, he knew he must have committed a sin. Well, Fate had seasoned him well into an ace criminal! She had managed to tame her heart as her eyes looked back radiating her joy piercing him through and through, he looked away wincing.

The concern in her voice was apparent," what? I know, I was not…" her self-doubt had eaten away the rest of the sentence, but the meaning stabbed open a fresh wound right where his heart throbbed with residual passion. Alarmed, he had held her face, resting his temple over hers, he prayed to her soul, "It has nothing to do with you, it is rather because of me...I could not make it special for you…"

Her small hands tilted up his chin, her lips licked away his distress. She tasted herself on them, she tasted the seawater as well. She wanted to see what was waiting for her outside this heaven place. She mustered the courage to rebuke him.

Clearing her throat, schooling her face she started, "Severus Tobias Snape, this self-doubt, stops now, stops here and mark my words if you are ever going to dream of inviting it back here, a place I have declared as OUR HOME, you will be begging to Merlin for the rest of your life!" It was comical to watch his face morph itself into a dead fish, but she bit her cheek and continued," When I agreed to come along with you I thought it through, even if it took me just a couple of minutes, but I was prepared. You could take my virginity because I gave you permission to do so. You might think yourself as an old man unworthy of second glances, but trust me, if I could have my way, I could just keep looking at you for the rest of my life. Now, your sorry has wounded me, and I think you need to be punished thoroughly for that, so here is my deal."

Hermione paused to watch how confused and smacked Severus looked, that he had forgotten to pull up the guise of the dour man the world was so familiar with. Smiling back cheekily she mumbled close to his lips once again, knowing that her ghostly breathing turns him on in seconds. "Take me outside" and for the added effect, she dropped her voice," please."

In the back of his mind, he enjoyed her bossiness and loved watching how anger turned her pale skin as red as a burning ember. He kept on his act till she had the gall to say the word, "Please!" She was not the person to say please to him, he was at her beck and call from now on. Holding on to his chastised look, he pulled himself away from her a little further and mumbled, "As you as…" in seconds he had descended on her heart like a baiting panther ready to snap the head of an unsuspecting deer. Suck hard and long, creating the titillating vacuum that excited every cell of her being, feeling her spine arch up till she crashed against his bare skin, he smiled against her chest victorious. Her gasp, her groan, and her shuddering declaration that it was him who alone could bring her to the gates of heavenly orgasmic state made him transcend above the roaring ocean outside and catch hold of freedom once again.

But this thirst of the soul, of the skin or this beating heart of this marvelous mind, would remain unsatiated leaving room for many such clandestine mating of a wizard and a witch whom the world will start hunting for soon enough.


End file.
